


A Drunk Elf is a Happy Elf

by admerxin13



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Thoughts, Dorian is a Good Friend, Drunk Dorian Pavus, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff, JUST KISS ALREADY, Lavellan is a funny drunk, Lavellan/Solas Fluff, Modern Thedas, Ride the Bull, Solas Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admerxin13/pseuds/admerxin13
Summary: Solas gets dragged out by Lavellan to a night on the town. As Solas tries to fight his ever-growing attraction to the young woman, Dorian plants a seed of an idea in his mind.TL:DR- Solas is repressing like hell, and needs a damned hard push.





	A Drunk Elf is a Happy Elf

Idrilla was a calm, collected woman. Serene even.

Until she started drinking. This was Sera and the Iron Bull's influence. Of that, Solas had no doubt.

And, while her more admirable traits were still present while intoxicated, they were severely overrun by giddiness, stumbling, and flirty banter. It was a rare occasion that he was present during her drunken reveries, but unfortunately, tonight he had been dragged in an embarrassing embrace by said elf to sit at their table in the group's favorite bar, The Herald's Rest. And he was subject today watching her notorious flirting directed towards an eyebrow raising number of her companions. Excluding himself.

He wasn't sure if he should feel offended or relieved by this fact. 

He was offended despite himself.

With a snort, he took a measured sip from his bottle of beer. He was always careful to stay sober, lest his silver tongue get away from him. As he whittled away at the ale, he kept an eye on the lithe female elf. One never knew when a "good" idea would pop into her head, directing her to dance on a bar or some other shenanigan.

Shenanigans which another of their party would invariably approve of and participate in if given the opportunity.

He reminded himself, as he sometimes needed to, that this was an advanced day, far removed from ages past when debauchery such as what the group took part in was frowned upon heavily. Idrilla deserved the occasional chance to let loose. He supposed that they all did. 

At that moment, Idrilla and Dorian, arms linked (likely to hold one another upright) laid themselves halfway onto the table he occupied.

He tried quite valiantly not to let his gaze drift down to Idrilla's nearly exposed breasts, pushed up by the wooden surface. It was an endeavor that caused his face and ears to heat, and, by her expression, she had noticed. 

"Solas!" the Tevinter grinned, "Do stop being so down. Now is the time to be up!" Then he chortled, likely at a childish view of his own words, of which Solas could only imagine by stretching the phrase a multitude of ways.

Idrilla rolled her eyes in response, whispering dramatically at the man, "Dor! No more dirty jokes! You'll get in trouble!" Then she giggled, destroying the image of propriety she had projected a moment before. 

Solas quickly decided that ignoring the other mages would be the best course of action to maintaining his sanity for the night. Dorian, however, was having none of that. "Come now, Solas, have a little fun!" The man let go of Idrilla's arm, setting the drunk elf free to gleefully jump onto the Bull's back, yelling out to the bar of her prowess as a champion bull rider, earning quite a few chuckles from the crowd, and a disapproving frown from himself.

Dorian pulled his attention from the wayward elf. "Come, Solas, you can't mope about and do nothing to direct her attention your way." Solas whipped his head toward the swarthy man, glaring. The human merely shrugged, then continued. "She may seem indifferent, old man, but you only need to show just a hint of interest. I can guarantee that she would be all over your dour self."He took a long drink of the neon concoction in his grasp."Why, however, is beyond me."

Solas could only stare as his scowl was wiped away. Then he shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the thoughts his fellow mage had planted in his oft-too conniving brain. "I'm afraid you are mistaken, Dorian. In fact, I'm sure this is all an alcohol-induced delirium you have conjured." He proceeded to ignore the man's words until he finally gave up, waving a dismissive hand towards the bald man. Solas continued watching the spectacle around him.

True, he thought, that he had had thoughts as to Idrilla for quite some time, having such a unique personality -despite some alcohol induced additions to it- and he had lost count of how many times his solitary thoughts had drifted to her plush lips and her caramel skin. The sparkle of her hazel eyes which lent more towards green on most days. He had spent one too many nights thinking of far more than that, too, and scolding himself for it in turn.

He doubted it was a habit he would be rid of easily.

It was nearing two in the morning when a pair of hands wrapped around his waist from behind, making him jump. Turning his head, he met the eyes of Idrilla, her normally bright irises dreamy from drink and exhaustion. She smiled at him sleepily, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. He raised a brow at her snuggling, but patted the hands clutching his shirt.

When she realized his attention was on her, she twisted her elegant features into a pout, mumbling softly in his ear, "They all left me, Solas." She sighed, dropping the pout. "And I need to go home now." He let out a chuckle at that, setting down the bottle that had long ago gone unappealingly warm. "Well then, da'len, I'd be happy to take you home." He kept her next to him as he closed their tabs, then ushered her out the door into the mild summer night.

He swept his arm ahead of them, watching her expectantly for the directions to her apartment from the bar. She merely blinked at him, then the empty street. 

Letting out a sigh, he asked, "You can't remember how to get home from here, can you?" She shook her head slowly, clinging to his arm suddenly, watching him with a decidedly dejected expression. He puffed out an aggravated breath, eyes flying upward towards the barely visible stars.

"Well, I have a spare room you that you may stay in tonight, lethallin." He watched her face light up at the offer, agreeing with an alcohol-induced exuberance. He let out a chuckle at her oddly child-like mannerisms. They were, he grudgingly admitted, quite cute

As they made their way to his home, Solas couldn't help but look down at the curvy red-haired elf somewhat sadly. He would never say so, but Dorian's words were stuck in his head, playing in a loop. Drugging, that thought was, of Idrilla looking at him with the fire he knew she was capable of. She was a surprising young woman. Far beyond her appearance, her wit and will drew him like a moth to a flame, and he was addicted to her presence in his life. 

But as sweet it was to imagine her being attracted to him the way he was to her, he knew that even if he did encourage her to flirt with him, she never would.

(So what's the harm in flirting anyway, you old fool?) A voice in the back of his mind wondered. What could you lose in the attempt?) 

He shook his head, stopping to unlock the front door to his home. Looking over to the young woman, he found her staring up at him, nibbling on her decadent lower lip. As he led her in the door, he had to stomp down the urge to pull her close to him. To cup her face in his hands, clutch her curves close and ravish her mouth with all the desperation he felt. But he pulled back,knowing nothing good could come of it.

(Well,) He thought wryly, (Nothing good beyond this night.)

(But what's the harm?)

Obviously, two beers were far too many in her presence.

He proceeded to lend her some loose sleep pants and a spare shirt for sleeping in, as she had no spare clothes. Then he escorted her to the bathroom- at her own insistence- to change.

Finally, she snuggled into the sheets of his spare bed, draining his resolve with her wide-eyed innocent gaze, looking far too content in his home, in his clothes- He cut that thought off ruthlessly.

Her eyes were already half-closed with sleep, as she slurred softly, "Solas, you are so good to me. This is why I love you."

He blinked, shocked at the confession as she giggled, patting her hand on her mouth."Oops. Wasn't 'posed to tell you that." She turned to her side, pulling the spare pillow to her side like a stuffed toy, looking up at him blearily. "G'night Solas." 

He sought his own bed in a daze that night.

\---------

The next morning, Solas woke early despite the late night before. Grinning at the memory of Idrilla's antics the night before, he steeped a cup of the tea he kept in his cabinet for Idrilla's occasional visit, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

He walked into the guest room a few minutes later, carrying her mug of fragrant tea. He sat on the bed and gently prodded the sleeping elf, grinning as a wicked thought entered his mind. 

(What do I have to lose, indeed.)

She woke, clutching her head as her hangover assaulted her senses. She rolled to face him, obviously surprised at her surroundings.

He was still grinning as he spoke. "Good morning, lethallin." He handed her tea over as she sat upright. 

She blushed, likely attempting to remember the details of last night. He waited patiently as she took her first sip of the hot, caffeine infused drink. She let out a contented sigh after a moment of indulging in it's effect, then refocused on his face. "I... I didn't do anything too embarrassing, did I?"

He mulled over the question as she squirmed. "Well, that depends on what you may find embarrassing." He grinned again, "You are quite the clingy drunk, of course."

She sighed, smiling at him, "Oh, well if that's all..."

He stood, standing at the doorway, turning to smile at her in a wolfish way, "Oh, and you also confessed your love to me while drunk." 

Her jaw dropped in a most comical fashion, and he nearly laughed aloud, but simply let his grin grow as she sputtered and flushed enticingly.

"Now, are you ready for breakfast?" He asked, strolling away from her shocked expression.

(Let her make her move now.) He thought, laughing at the unexpected turn of events. (And if she doesn't now, damned if I won't.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. This is my first Inquisition fic ever, so reviews are greatly appreciated of course. Let me know what you liked or didn't like. Constructive advise is always appreciated.
> 
> (And I don't think I should have to translate the minimal Elvish I used, right? I hope not!)


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